Keller County Cops Book Seven: Code of Vengeance

by Melanie Atkins

  As he threw the car into gear, he gritted his teeth to offset the yawning hunger the court artist had reawakened within him. He really needed to get out more.

  To get his mind back on the Woodward case, he turned on his Bluetooth and called Tiffany on the way to the station to ask where she'd stashed the surveillance video.

  "It's on my computer," she said. "Their cameras are brand-new digital models. I'll text you my access code so you won't have to look it up. The file icon is on the desktop."

  "Thanks, Deputy," he said, eager to reach her desk so he could get a look at that witness.

  Tiffany asked him to hang on. "How'd Mitch do this morning? He wants that guy to fry."

  "He did a great job. Abington asked him to hang around for a while in case he needs to recall him, but I doubt the session will run late. He should be done by four or so."

  "I appreciate that, Sheriff. Let me know if you see anything I missed on that video."

  "Will do." He ended the call and whipped the Charger onto Main Street.

  Ten minutes later, he waved at Barbara as he bypassed her office en route to Tiffany's cluttered desk. He sat in her chair to watch the video and wished every business in town had new, upscale cameras like the Kitty Kat Klub did. He figured they'd invested in such nice digital equipment because they'd had trouble there before and feared he'd restart his campaign to shut them down if things got any worse. He grimaced. If only.

  The figure Tiffany had told him about wasn't visible in the first video, but that particular camera had captured the murder. Anticipation thrummed through Rick's veins as he closed the file and opened the video from the second camera. Almost immediately, the murderer dashed across the parking lot and disappeared from the frame. Then a dark shadow across the road moved, back-pedaling away from the corner of the building nearest the parking lot. Back-pedaling fast, as if afraid of being caught.

  Back-pedaling with a cell phone pressed to his or her ear.

  "Well, I'll be damned. So you did make the nine-one-one call," Rick murmured, running the video back and riveting his gaze on the diminutive figure again. Tiffany had been right about the person's size, and yet she hadn't mentioned the phone. "I'll have to speak to her about that."

  His talk with the deputy could wait, however. Right now, he had to learn if the outcry witness who'd made the call was male or female. So he picked up the phone and dialed dispatch.

  "Sure thing, Sheriff," the man who answered said. "I'll look it up."

  While he waited, Rick pressed his thumb to the bridge of his nose in an effort to abort the headache that had taken root there. He didn't have to wait too long.

  "Sir?" the guy said when he came back on the line. "Our records show a woman made that call. She told the operator about the attack, but hung up when he asked her to identify herself and didn't answer when he called her back."

  "I see." Rick blew out a frustrated breath. "Okay, Tim. That helps. Thanks."

  "Yes, sir. Let us know if we can do anything else."

  "Will do." Ending the call, he abandoned Tiffany's chair. On his way to his office, he couldn't help musing aloud over what he'd learned. "So we are looking for a woman. Interesting."

  "Who's looking for a woman?" Jonah McKee strode toward him from the side entrance with a smirk on his face. "You, Sheriff?"

  "No, not me." Rick shot him a frustrated look. "Unless you mean the witness who called nine-one-one when that guy stabbed Dirk Woodward."

  "A woman? Really?" He lifted a brow. "Mitch told me about that case last night when he came by to see Colton."

  "Ah, the new little one. How is he? What are you doin' here when you're supposed to be off on paternity leave?"

  "He's just fine, and so is everybody else. I had to testify in the Mott case this morning, and it went well. Just thought I'd stop by and say hello on my way home."

  "Nope. You stopped by so you could show off pictures of the baby."

  "Okay, you caught me. I've got to show Barbara, too. She'll shoot me if I don't stop by her office." Jonah fished out his phone, pulled up his photos, and held out the device so Rick could see the little boy grinning up at him. "Meet Colton Jay McKee."

  "Wow. He's a cute little fellow." Rick chuckled, even though a pang settled in the center of his chest. The kid had fat cheeks and squinty eyes. "Looks just like you."

  "Thanks a lot." He laughed. "He's adopted, boss."

  "I know. You won't treat him that way, though, will you? He's Aiden's little bubba."

  "You're right, sir." Jonah put the phone away. "He's my little boy, through and through. I won't ever let him forget that."

  "You're a good man, Detective. A good husband and father." He clapped Jonah on the shoulder. "Speaking of which, you'd better go home before your wife comes looking for you."

  "Guess so." He blew out a weary sigh. "I love helping out at home, don't get me wrong, but I already miss the job."

  "It's been three days. Forget this damned place, now that you've got court duty out of the way, and take the next two weeks to get to know your little boy and enjoy your family."

  "Yes, sir. I'm going." Looking every bit the proud papa, Jonah grinned, shook Rick's hand, and angled for Barbara's desk. Halfway there, he turned around and called out, "I'll stay in touch, boss. Promise."

  "You do that," Rick hollered after him, shaking his head at the detective's persistence. If Rick had a new little kid at home, he wouldn't set foot in this place again for as long as he could get away with hiding out at home.

  His cell phone bleated just as he lowered himself into the chair behind his desk. He dug out the device and checked the display. Tiffany.

  "Well, hello there, Deputy," he said instead of barking his last name into the phone like usual. "You failed to tell me our witness was the one who called nine-one-one that night."

  "That's why I called you just now. I realized I'd forgotten to mention that." She paused. "So... you must've already seen the video."

  "I have. I also contacted the call center and learned a woman made the call. So I'm guessing the ninja in that video is our outcry witness. You said it might be a woman."

  "A ninja, sir?"

  "That's what she looks like." He grinned. "Whoever the hell she is, she hung up the minute the operator asked her to identify herself. That tells me she's definitely hiding something. I need to find out who she is so I can bring her in. She might be able to give us more details about what happened that night."

  "Wish we knew why she was there in the first place. I'm thinking she might've tailed her husband to the club. Or that maybe she's a PI and was waiting for some poor sap to leave the place so she could get a picture of him coming out the door."

  "Either of those scenarios is possible. Shouldn't be too hard to find her since we have her phone number. She has the same prefix as me, so I figure she uses the same carrier I have. I'll need a warrant to get her name, though."

  "True. Mitch usually hits up Judge Rouse, but he's most likely still in court."

  "Unfortunately, you're right." Rick scowled. "I'd rather go with him, too, but I guess I'll have to settle for Adams."

  "Good luck with that, sir. He can be prickly about warrants."

  "Thanks. I know. I'll have to risk it, because I want to put this one to bed as soon as possible." He glanced at his calendar and groaned inwardly. He needed to pen a speech to give to a county senior citizens' group at the community center tomorrow night. If only he had time to sit down and work on it. Waiting until tomorrow was cutting it pretty damned close.

  Once he hung up the phone, he marched into Barbara's office and asked the older woman to type up a warrant for the cell phone carrier he and Tiffany had discussed. Barbara wore her gray helmet hair like a badge and dared anyone to mess with her self-imposed daily schedule.

  "You'll still have to get a judge to sign this before it's valid, Sheriff." Barbara shot him a quelling gaze as she handed him the piece of paper.

  He fended off her stern glare. He knew better than
to challenge her, and yet he needed the warrant ASAP. To his relief, she hadn't give him any flack about interrupting her current task. "Thanks. I remember."

  "I know you do. I'm just keeping you on track." She gave him a few more sage words of advice before waving him out of her office.

  Eager to get down to the courthouse and corner Judge Adams, he hurried out to his car.

  "Sheriff?" The woman's purring tone stopped him in his tracks.

  He whipped around and found himself face to face with Mindy Ravens, who had on a dress cut so low he expected her boobs to explode out of it at any moment. "Ms. Ravens."

  "I figured you had to leave your office sooner or later." She cocked her head and grinned, then stuck a microphone in his face. "What can you tell me about the investigation into the recent murder at the Kitty Kat Klub?"

  "Nothing," he snapped. "Like I told you that night, I can't comment on an ongoing investigation. As soon as I have information to release to the public, I'll hold a news conference. That's the best I can do."

  "I hear you have a witness."

  "Oh?" Startled she knew about the woman in the shadows when he'd just learned about her today himself, he gaped at her. "Where'd you hear that?"

  "So... I'm right." A coy smile stretched across her face.

  Anger blasted through him. "No comment."

  "Too late, Sheriff." Her smile became a full-blown grin. "Gotcha. Who is it?"

  "No. Comment." He scowled and pulled out his keys. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go."

  "Where?" She eyed the piece of paper in his hand. "Are you following up on a lead?"

  "I can't tell you that." He glared at her and opened his car door. "Good day, Ms. Ravens."

  "Take care, Sheriff." She winked at him. "We'll talk again soon."

  "I sure as hell hope not," he muttered as he clambered into the Charger. Mindy Ravens was not on his list of favorite people.

  A stream of curses spilled from his lips as he backed from the parking space, glad to finally be on his way without having murdered that nosy bitch. With any luck, he'd corner Judge Adams without having to wait and would be able to fax the warrant to the service provider in time for them to send him the name on the account by nightfall.

  Even before the cell phone carrier called him back with a name, however, he would make another foray to the Kitty Kat Klub to scour the ground himself. Maybe by the time he got there, CSU would be free. He needed all the evidence he could find to help him ID that witness.

  She might not want anyone to know she was at the club that night, but that was just too freaking bad. Justice would prevail in this case.

  Rick would see to it.

  *****

  Relief flowed through Keegan's veins the second Judge Rouse finally recessed court for the day a little after four o'clock. She shoved her art supplies into her satchel, scurried to her office, and scanned her sketches into the computer. Her fingers flew over the keys as she fired them off to Keller County's Director of Public Relations for distribution to the media.

  Her nerve endings hummed as she rushed out to her car. The vehicle was wet, telling her more rain had fallen during the day, but even though the clouds still hung heavy in the sky, for now the downpour had stopped. Eager to get home before more rain fell, she jumped into the car and headed for the Kitty Kat Klub. Going there before dark probably wasn't the best idea she'd ever had, but she wanted a chance to look for her earring. The surveillance cameras worried her, but she figured she'd be okay as long she parked down the street and kept her back to them.

  Traffic was heavy, with everyone making a beeline for the suburbs after work. Once she reached the end of Main Street, she whipped the car onto the narrow lane leading to the club and trundled into bleakness. A light mist had taken over where the rain left off, and that made her antsy. She hoped another downpour wasn't about to beat down in earnest. If so, she might as well stay in the damned car.

  The club's parking lot was empty except for a beat-up Chevy pickup and a sleek black Mercedes that were both pulled up right in front of the door.

  "The Mercedes probably belongs to the owner." Keegan scoffed at the expensive sedan as she splashed through a few puddles. "Bought with money earned by girls who'll never even get to ride in a car like that. So damned unfair. I'd like to break his fool neck."

  She tamped down her anger to a manageable flame and forced herself to slow the vehicle and examine the rest of the area. No one had parked along the side of the building where she'd hidden in the shadows or in the lot where Dirk had died. Deciding she'd done enough reconnaissance since no one was around this time of day, she made the block and parked at the curb far enough down the street to be out of range of the security cameras.

  The cool mist coated her skin the moment she stepped out of the car, and thick gray clouds hovered overhead. She set a medium pace and focused on the ground beneath her feet, praying she'd find the earring and get out of there before anyone noticed her. The concrete was uneven and cracked in spots, so searching for something that small wasn't easy.

  If only I had a metal detector.

  No such luck. She kept moving, examining the wet ground and toeing at the cracks to make sure her earring hadn't gotten lodged into one of them. She found a quarter, a couple of dimes, and what looked like a broken jackknife blade, but nothing else shiny caught her eye.

  She put her hand on the wall once she reached the trash bin where she'd hunkered down in the dark, waiting for Dirk to make an appearance. The ground around her feet was clear as well, except for a few pieces of shattered concrete, some loose gravel, and a few faded gum wrappers. CSU would probably pick it up, but she ignored them because they weren't hers. She knew better than to toss litter onto the ground when she was on a mission.

  The mist thickened. Keegan cursed and swiped the sleeve of her jacket across her damp forehead. Only about fifteen feet to the end of the building. She crept forward, scanning every inch of ground, and again finding nothing resembling her missing garnet earring.

  Nothing shiny at all.

  She held her breath and continued past the building into the small parking lot where Dirk had breathed his last. No concrete in this lot. Only sand, gravel, and tiny bits of trash from club patrons. The blood that had pooled beneath Dirk's prone body was still evident, although the rain had diluted it to a weak pink puddle. Bile surged up Keegan's throat as she recalled the way he'd gurgled when he'd tried to talk. She clapped a hand over her mouth and fled back toward the building, her stomach in turmoil.

  Just as she reached the corner, the glint from an object on the ground caught her eye. She bent and scooped it up along with a handful of sand that stuck to her fingers.

  "My earring," she murmured in awe, her shock at finding it overtaking the revulsion that had risen in her belly. She smiled down at the filthy piece of jewelry. "I don't believe it."

  The words were hardly out of her mouth when a car splashed down the street and rolled to a stop beside her. A black Dodge Charger with the KCSO logo emblazoned on the side.

  Keegan gasped and bolted back to her car, the grit-covered earring clutched in her right hand like a talisman.

  "Hey!" A man called out. Without even looking, she knew the gruff growl belonged to Sheriff Rick Blaylock. His heavy footsteps crunched behind her. "Hey, get back here!"

  She didn't answer him. Her car sat just up ahead. Desperate to reach it before he caught up with her, she dodged puddle after puddle, zigzagging to stay out of the mud.

  Have to get away. If he catches me, I might as well kiss my plan goodbye.

  He grabbed her arm just as she jerked the door open.

  "Whoa, honey. You aren't going anywhere." His deep rumble made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. "I saw you looking around. What in hell do you think you're doing?"

  "G-going home." She angled her body away from him and kept her head down. The mist had thickened, and moisture streaked down her cheeks. She twisted her body in an attempt to free herself. "
Please... let me go."

  "No," he snapped, his minty breath hot on her neck. "Who are you, and why were you poking around in that parking lot?"

  "I-I wasn't."

  "Bullshit." He tightened his hold on her forearm, spun her around, and shoved her against the side of the car. He held her there using his big body. "You were. What's in your hand?"

  "Nothing." Cold rainwater dribbled down the back of her shirt. Even though it tickled, she did her best to ignore the discomfort and keep her head down. Maybe if she didn't look at him, he wouldn't figure out who she was. "I-I just want to go home. Please--"

  "I just bet you do, but you can forget it." He gripped her chin. "Look at me."

  "No." She jerked her face away and wriggled in his hard hold. "Leave me alone."

  "I'm afraid I can't do that, ma'am." He let go of her arm, grabbed her face with both big hands, and forced her chin up. The surprise on his face told her he knew he'd seen her before. He dropped his hands and drew his brows together. "It's you. From court. The court artist."

  "That's right," she whispered, the reality of the situation crashing down on her with the weight of an anvil. No need to tell him her name if he didn't remember. At least not yet. "Please... I-I wasn't hurting anyone. I was only looking for something I lost. Please let me go."

  "No way. Now, about the object you found... when--"

  "When what?" Although she knew exactly what he meant, she frowned.

  His scowl darkened. "What was it? And when did you lose it?"

  "I found my... my earring." She reluctantly held it out.

  He picked it up off her palm, brushed away some of the sand, and examined it. "I see. When'd you drop it in that parking lot? Saturday night, maybe?"

  "None of your damned business." She snatched the earring back and shoved it deep into the pocket of her slacks. A bead of moisture hung on the end of the sheriff's nose, and she forced herself not to look at it. Instead, she focused on the chance that he might let her go. "I found it, and that's what counts."